9

Carla stood in the kitchen of No. 29 the next day trying to view the house objectively and not let her emotions override her head. She needed somewhere to live until the current mess her life was in was sorted out. The house had been left to her and was the sensible, money-saving answer. She’d remember the happy times here, times that mostly involved her dad, and push other unhappy memories to the back of her mind. Doing that, surely she could bear to live here for a few weeks?

But what about furniture? If she’d known she was going to leave David all those weeks ago when she’d stripped the place ready for sale, she’d have left the basics – bed, table, settee, cooker – in place. A ready-made bolthole.

She only needed a room really. If she lived downstairs, she could make do with a bed settee, some sort of table with a chair and a small combi oven… A kettle, crockery, cutlery, bed linen, suddenly the ‘need to have’ list in her head was growing longer by the second. So annoying when she knew that everything she needed was in duplicate, triplicate even, in her old home. Could that be her answer? If she moved in here, she’d ask David if she could take whatever she needed. Even as the thought occurred to her, she banished it. When they divorced, half of the old marital home would be hers by right, so she would tell, not ask, David that she was only taking what was rightfully hers. And then, when she moved into her new home, she’d at least have a head start in furnishing it and having familiar things around her.

Moving into the sitting room, Carla saw with a jolt that the mantelpiece was empty. The urn with Amelia’s ashes had gone. She’d not decided where to scatter Amelia before running away to France and had deemed leaving them where they were was the best thing. So who had taken them? What had they done with them? Not scattering them was one thing, but losing the ashes would be another something else entirely. Maybe the estate agent had hidden them? Tactfully banishing them from the view of potential buyers. But where?

The obvious place was one of the old-fashioned cupboards built into the alcoves on either side of the fireplace. Cupboards which her mother had always refused to have removed, saying they were too useful to take out. Holding her breath, Carla opened the door on the right-hand side. Empty.

She moved across to the left-hand side of the fireplace and peered into the cupboard. And breathed. The urn was there, pushed to one side, out of sight. Lifting it out, Carla put it back on the mantelpiece as a reminder to dispose of them urgently.

Right now, though, she needed to get across town to meet David for the ‘we need to talk’ lunch he’d insisted they had. She’d wanted to meet somewhere neutral for both of them but in the end David had over-ruled her, saying the pub restaurant near his office was the most convenient for him, and as she was a free agent, it made sense for her to go there.

Carla deliberately arrived early and chose a table in a quiet corner where she could sit and wait out of sight of prying eyes. She ordered a bottle of sparkling water, asked for the menu and ordered a ploughman’s lunch.

Of course David was late. Carla had finished her lunch and pushed the plate to one side before he arrived in a flurry of laughter and bonhomie with a couple of people from the office – Helen his P.A. and his senior manager, Simon. Carla saw him make a quick assessment of tables around the restaurant before he spotted her. She gave him a small nod of acknowledgement and waited as the three of them made their way over to her. Surely he wasn’t going to invite Helen and Simon to join them?

‘I’d ask you to join us,’ she heard David say apologetically, ‘but we’ve got some catching up to do now Carla’s back from holiday.’

Ah, that’s the way he was playing things, was it? He wanted people to think they were still a united couple.

After the usual ‘nice to see you again’ and ‘enjoy your lunch’, Helen and Simon moved on to their own table. Carla knew she didn’t imagine the sympathy she saw in Helen’s smile as she said ‘Bye’.

‘Sorry I’m late. You know what it’s like.’ David pulled out a chair and sat down, noticing her empty plate as he did. ‘You’ve eaten already?’

Carla shrugged. ‘I can’t stay long. You were late and I was hungry.’

‘So where did you disappear to in a huff?’

‘I took your advice and went to Antibes,’ Carla said, deciding to ignore his use of the word huff. It was anything but a huff. Besides, even if it had been, as far as she was concerned he was the last one to condemn her actions.

‘You could have told me where you were. Did Josette welcome you with open arms?’

‘It was good getting to know Josette a bit better after all the years she and Mum were estranged,’ Carla answered calmly, pouring herself a glass of water as the waiter appeared to take David’s order. She waited until he’d left before saying, ‘So what do you want to talk about?’

‘Us, of course,’ David said. ‘Why the hell haven’t you come home? Where are you staying?’

Carla shook her head. ‘David, you know full well why I haven’t come back home. Her name is Lisa.’ She paused before adding, ‘I’ve got a hotel room for the moment.’

‘You can’t live in a hotel indefinitely,’ David said. ‘You need to come home.’

‘I don’t want to live in the same house as you right now,’ Carla said. ‘Certainly not while you’re seeing another woman.’

She waited to see if David would tell her what she already knew about Lisa dumping him. He didn’t.

‘I’ve instructed a solicitor and you should receive the divorce papers this week from him,’ she continued.

‘I don’t want us to divorce. I apologise for the hurt I’ve caused you by this affair, which, by the way, I’ve ended, and I promise I will try my damnedest to make it up to you.’

‘I’d heard she dumped you.’ Carla stared at him. ‘David, I’ve had enough of your broken promises and lies. Lisa is the latest in a long line of women you’ve had affairs with down the years. I’ve had enough of being taken for granted, of being the little woman behind her man. I want a life of my own, and with the children independent and Mum gone,’ she shrugged, ‘well, I want a shot at being truly happy. I refuse to let you hold me back any more. I want to go places.’

David reached his hand out and grasped hers before she could move it out of the way. ‘Once No. 29 is sold we could do that together. I’ve always wanted to go to the Maldives. It could be a second honeymoon.’

Trust David to put his wants first. ‘I was actually thinking of an eco-camp in the Amazon forest, not a luxury resort anywhere.’ Not true. Going travelling had been a vague idea, with no definite destination in her mind. One thing she did realise, though, she didn’t want to go anywhere with David. She jerked her hand out of his.

‘Okay, we could do that too.’

Carla shook her head at him. The message that she’d had enough was clearly not getting through. As she opened her mouth to tell him how she felt again, David was already speaking.

‘Look, I’ve got a week’s conference to go to up in Cumbria – I leave this weekend. Why don’t you at least move back in while I’m away. When I get back you might have changed your mind and decided to stay.’

About to tell him no, Carla stopped and looked at him thoughtfully. ‘I do need to sort out my stuff and pack it up ready for…’ she shrugged, ‘ready for when I decide where I’m going. It would be easier if I did it while you’re away.’ Carla looked at him. ‘I won’t change my mind though about staying on afterwards.’

David sighed. ‘I can’t say the thought that I’ve made it easier for you to pack up your things while I’m away fills me with joy but…’ he shrugged. ‘just live in the house and we’ll see what happens when I get back.’

‘When you get back I’ll still be divorcing you, David. What part of that sentence do you not understand?’ Carla stood up and slipped her red tote over her shoulder. ‘I’ll leave you to settle my lunch bill. Have a good conference.’ She turned on her heel and walked away, leaving David staring after her.